


Fell for Finals

by snorkjooce



Category: Wynonna Earp - Fandom
Genre: College AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 20:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7121821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snorkjooce/pseuds/snorkjooce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waverly's been planning and dreaming of college since she can remember. Reality, however, throws her a few curveballs that weren't in her plans. Specifically, a red headed curveball named Nicole. Another college AU. You're welcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A freshly dressed Waverly Earp flops down on her back on her now bare bed, and surveys the room around her. Eighteen years of accumulated life crap, and it's condensed into three boxes and two bags, 80% of which is the books she couldn't bring herself to part with. Kind of depressing when she thinks about it. Which she purposely doesn't.

"This day is depressing enough without you getting nostalgic about walls, idiot," she tells herself. Under the excitement that beats through her, there is a current of sadness as she prepares to say goodbye, not only to the people of Purgatory but to the place itself. This town has its flaws (okay, some huge flaws, she admits), but it was the last place her family was together and alive and happy. The people who grew to be her family after she lost her own are here. It's everything she's ever known. In a big way, Purgatory is family. And now she has to let go of that family and find a new one. Again.

Gus slams the door open, making Waverly jump so high she falls off the bed. "It's today Waves!" Gus exclaims, her eyes wide with excitement.

Waverly peeks her head up from the side of the bed, feeling slightly apprehensive about the level of enthusiasm being shown by the usually subdued woman. "I'm only coming out from down here if you promise to take the volume down by 30%."

Gus lets out a laugh and counter-offers, "20%."

"25%, final offer," Waverly grins. Gus sticks out her hand in agreement, and Waverly rises from the floor, rubbing her bruised elbow and shakes the woman's hand firmly.

"We're just, I mean - I'm just so proud of you Wave," Gus stumbles, not yet used to being a single rather than a couple. "And I know Curtis would've been. He'd've been up at 4am, making you pancakes before your big trip, you know that."

Waverly smiles sadly and swipes quickly at a tear threatening to spill from her left eye. "I know you've said no, but I don't have to go now. I can do my classes online, help with Shorty's, at least until you – "

Gus cuts across the girl's sentence, "I swear to God, Waverly Earp, if you offer that one more time, I will hit you. I know I'm old and that's probably some sort of child abuse, but I will take you down. You're leaving today and that's that."

"Okay, okay, no need for threats. I just… don't want to abandon you. I mean, I'm an Earp, I wouldn't be the first one of those to not leave Purgatory, it wouldn't be a big deal."

"Wave. I know this is big and scary, but you were made to get out of this town. You've been destined for big things from the moment you tackled the alphabet. I remember, you learned to read and spent the next, well the next 15 years really, with a book or six in your little hand. Your daddy used to tell me, 'Gussy, that girl is something else. She's going to do something with this life of hers.' And he was right. So don't you hesitate for a minute, love."

Gus plants a kiss on Waverly's head, turns and grabs one of the boxes from the stack by the bedroom door, starting to heave it down to the truck waiting at the front of the house.

Waverly glances at herself in the mirror, as if capturing a last look at herself in her Purgatory life. She's wearing her favourite jeans, old and dependable and frayed at the kneecaps. Her sweatshirt is older than her jeans, with Shorty's printed across the chest and sleeves rolled up because otherwise they fall past her fingertips. She sighs. Even her appearance screams that Purgatory is home. But Gus is right, she's been dreaming of this day for her whole life. She steels herself, grabs her bag and a box, and heads down the stairs to her new adventure.

Four hours stuck in an uncomfortable truck with an overly enthusiastic Gus behind the wheel, who insisted on playing motivational pop songs the entire drive, and Waverly bursts out of the door, simply overjoyed to be free.

"Were you trying to make me glad to leave you? Because you just might have succeeded," she calls over to the older woman, who is staring around them in awe. Waverly follows Gus' eyeline to the buildings that tower over them, and her jaw drops. This is be her new home? From tiny Purgatory suburban house to huge ancient building, complete with stone and ivy?

She notices a peppy blonde standing by the side of the truck toting a clipboard and whistle, and snaps her mouth closed, not wanting to look like some gaping small town fool. "Hey there, I'm Steph, you must be one of our new freshman! Welcome to Ghost River University! We're so totally psyched to have you here, you're defs going to love it, I swear."

Waverly grins and introduces herself, thinking of how Wynonna would tear this girl apart. She can just imagine the snarky comments that would spill from her sister. Or would have back in the day. She remembers again that she hasn't seen Wynonna in years so wouldn't really know anymore. "If you want to grab your stuff and head upstairs, you'll be in…oh yep, 22B. I'll get you some help, one sec," the blonde finishes her sentence with a sharp blow on the whistle hanging around her neck, and a shirtless frat guy hustles over and grabs a box from the back of the truck.

"Hey, careful with that, that's my entire life savings worth of first editions in there," Waverly cautions, eying the guy now walking off with her belongings. Gus winks over at the young Earp, "I might have to come back to college, he can carry my boxes any day."

Waverly groans, "Excuse me, you're meant to be bereft. Quit perving on teenagers." Gus laughs, knocks her hip to Waverly's, and they follow the frat boy to room 22B.

After saying a teary goodbye to the older woman, Waverly spends two hours setting her room up just right and how she had always imagined her college dorm room to look. She remembers that she had drawn a floor plan of this very room when she was 10, and had been scouring the Purgatory thrift shop since about that age for bits that would combine to create the perfect room. There was an antique globe settled on her bookshelf, holding up the much loved copies of her favourite books, and the few first editions she had been able to afford with her (meagre) Shorty's income. She would deny it to anyone who asked, but it took her half an hour to organise her books alone. Her desk was set, with notebooks, pens and freshly sharpened pencils ready to get learning. She looks around the room, satisfied with her decorative efforts, and feels pride and excitement welling up in her. Maybe this college thing won't be too hard. Maybe it will be everything she dreamed it would be.

She'd read online that there would be some orientation events in the quad on moving day and decides to check it out, so she doesn't seem like a creep just sitting in her room waiting for her roommate to arrive. She wanders down the hall, in no real rush, taking in her new surroundings. She's knocked to the side by what she thinks is a red floral blur at first. 'Is this The Flash?' she thinks stupidly, catching herself against the hallway wall. Looking up, she realises the blur is a human, a redheaded woman, to be specific. "OH, I'm so sorry, that's completely my fault. Are you okay?" the woman stutters out.

Waverly looks into the brown eyes of the woman who's just barrelled through her, and any anger that she felt melts away. She herself also melts slightly. And loses all ability to speak.

"Did I break your voice? Hello?" The woman smiles at her.

"Oh um sorry, I'm fine," Waverly stumbles over her words, and mentally chastises herself. What is her problem? The first person she interacts with here and she's making an absolute fool of herself.

"You certainly are that," the woman grins. "I'm Nicole, just by the way. I might see you around, uhh?"

"Earp. Uh, Waverly Earp. I - My name's Waverly."

"Okay, Earp Waverly Earp, you look after yourself now, alright?" Nicole spins on her heel and leaves Waverly in a cloud of floral shampoo and confusion. The bewildered girl shakes her head, as though literally clearing her thoughts, and watches the red head make her way down the hall. 'What in the hell is my issue?' she thinks. Okay, so she might not be the most popular person in the world, but she has friends. She can make friends. She's pretty charismatic. But apparently she had a momentary stroke or something, because that was ridiculous.

"Oh well," she shrugs. A school this size, she figures, she probably won't see Nicole again.


	2. Chapter 2

Waverly quickly falls into the rhythm of college. She spends the next week systematically getting lost in every part of campus, forming a tentative bond with her roommate that mainly consists of pleasantries exchanged in the doorway as Waverly heads off to class and the roommate stumbles in after a night at the nearest frat, and glancing up every time she sees the red hair pass by. She makes a few friends (or really acquaintances at this point) and thankfully, doesn't experience the same humiliating brain death that she did that time as she's come to refer to it. She's no closer to working out what the hell came over her, but she tries her absolute best not to dwell on it. And thankfully hasn't had to face the girl, what was even her name?

See, clearly she's over it, she hasn't thought about it even once. (She knows the girl's name, somehow hasn't been able to peel it off her mind.) In the end, she settles for deciding that she thought the girl was nice and could use a nice friend here. That's all, that has to be all.

The Tuesday of her second week, she's sitting in an introductory class waiting for the professor to arrive and start ranting about culture or something. There's no one in the seat beside her, which honestly she doesn't mind. She's been drowning in small talk and she's actually looking forward to not having to talk about where she's from and what she's thinking of majoring in and all those inane questions she's answered (and asked) a hundred times this past week. The professor finally walks in and in the surprise of pulling herself out of her daydream, she doesn't realize the chair she's been hoping would stay empty is filled.

"Hey, Waverly right? You been staying upright?"

She starts slightly and glances to her right. Nicole. She feels her lungs expand slightly as she sucks in an excited breath. And immediately tells herself to cool it. She didn't realize (or didn't admit) that she's been waiting to run into the girl. And oh god, has she just been staring this whole time? 'Quick, Waverly, please say words now,' she thinks.

"Oh - um hi, yeah it's Waverly. I've uh been doing my best," she throws out, genuinely pleased with herself for the effort.

"Thank god, I've been concerned this whole week," Nicole jokes, with a smile that makes the room five degrees warmer.

At this completely inopportune moment, the professor sorts his shit out and starts to deliver his class. Waverly has to actively stop herself from standing up and asking him to stop interrupting her conversation. Instead she stays seated, ignores the professor, and focuses entirely on the fact that Nicole might have been thinking about her this week. And on the fact that her entire right side seems to have suddenly become carbonated.

An elbow hits her ribs lightly and she sees Nicole point her pen to the corner of her book. Waverly peers over and sees a note scribbled there.

_This guy doesn't seem to notice he died overnight. His ghost has come to class? Only explanation for this deathly boring lecture._

Waverly smiles, noting that the girl's handwriting is terrible. Really, she should be a cop or something with that scrawl. She leans across and writes below it in her neat script.

_He really did pull a Binn._

She hears Nicole laugh beside her, earning them a glare from the professor who Waverly will now always call Binn. She's pleased with herself though, having made Nicole laugh, and a bad look from Binn seems a minuscule price to pay.

She realizes that Nicole has written a response and leans over to read it.

_XXXX, clumsy and understands Harry Potter references, be still my beating heart._

Waverly smiles. She notices the first word of her note has been heavily crossed out, and wonders briefly about what made Nicole change her mind. She figures the red head was joking, with the whole beating heart thing. She can't help but notice though, that under the frantic crossing outs, is the word cute, just visible under the ink. The Earp girl ignores the way her own heart beats a touch faster at the realization.

_Excuse me, I'm only 'clumsy' when I'm being mown down in the hallway_

She writes back, smiling slightly at the way they're filling Nicole's page with notes, and at the way her neat print contrasts with Nicole's scratchy letters.

_Let me buy you a coffee, to make up for it?_

Waverly grins at the girls scrawled invitation and replies,

_Sure! My blood pressure disagrees but there's no such thing as too much coffee. And I could use a friend around campus._

Waverly misses it, but Nicole's shoulders shrink slightly on reading the words. The red head writes out a speedy _'We'll talk after class_ ,' and returns to note taking. She misses it, because she's caught up in the joy of feeling like she's found a friend in the mess of people.

The class drags on, Waverly bored and paying more attention to the movements of the girl beside her than the professor's words, Nicole seemingly intently focused on her notes. When she hears the professor finally dismiss them with a list of reading to be completed by the next class, she grabs her books and smiles over at her new friend.

'Hey! So coffee? I mean, obviously you don't have to pay, I'm fine no injuries but I actually would like to hang out. If you're free, that is,' the brunette eagerly bursts out, gripping her books to her chest.

Nicole's eyes softens at the enthusiasm, and she nods.

They make plans to meet the next day, at a cafe Nicole knows with good scones and better hot chocolate.

At the last minute, as they're about to go their separate ways, Nicole grabs the brunette's hand. Waverly's breathing stops, and Nicole fishes a pen from her pocket. She pulls the cap off with her teeth and writes her number on the girls hand, punctuating it with a ' _\- N._ '

"In case you get lost," she explains, and leaves Waverly to find her breath again.

* * *

 

Waverly finds herself almost skipping throughout the day, a bounce in her step as she imagines sitting down the next day with hot chocolate and Nicole. She knows she's too excited, but it's her first friend of college. As strange as it may be, she's been thinking about the friends she'd make in college her whole life. Purgatory was a little place and the friend pickings were slim. She can't wait to have a group of people she knows want to hang out with her, not just because there's no one else, but because there's no one else better. Somehow though, Nicole seems better than any friendship daydream she's ever had.

She catches herself trying to think of reasons to text Nicole as the hours crawl by. She tries to throw herself into studying, determined not to fall behind at the very beginning of class, but every hour or so finds herself staring at her phone, at the number on her hand, trying to work out how to make contact without feeling creepy. She can't tear her mind away from red hair and brown eyes and terrible handwriting. She never works out what to send and goes to bed with phone numbers and messages ticking over in her brain.

As she lays in bed staring at the ceiling, she tries to work out why Nicole has gotten under her skin already. They've spoken twice. No, she wouldn't call the first time speaking really. They've interacted one and a half times. And already Waverly is acting like they're meant to be friends, like they're somehow more than two people who've spent approximately ten minutes making small talk. She's completely certain that Nicole hasn't given her a second thought, except to wonder why this girl she's hardly met keeps acting like an idiot in front of her. Nothing comes to her. There's no reason for her to feel like this.  She groans and turns over, determined to act normal and put this behind her. (She doesn't succeed.)

The girls meet the next day, and Nicole wears a loose forest green sweater over a denim button down shirt and Waverly thinks it might be the number one best sweater-shirt combo she's ever seen. Honestly she's going to need to get Nicole to come shopping with her. Waverly arrives early, because she was in the area, definitely not because she left her room an hour and a half before she needed to. She loiters nearby for an hour before giving in. Seeing Nicole through the front glass window, sitting there staring at the door chewing her lip, Waverly feels that rush in her chest again. She writes it off as nerves and pushes the heavy door open.

The two women talk for three hours and 35 minutes, powering through three hot chocolates each. As they reach the end of the first hour, Waverly feels her knee press against Nicole's. The feeling of warmth that flows through her is so full and comforting that she doesn't move her leg, as she might if it were, really, anyone else. Somehow Nicole makes her feel so much like herself, like there's no reason to be anyone but wholly her. (She purposely doesn't put any weight on the fact that Nicole doesn't move her knee either. Probably thinks it's the table leg. She's also fiddling with the salt shaker when Nicole shoots her a questioning look across the table.)

"Okay Wave," the nickname makes Waverly fairly certain she won't be able to stop grinning for a week. "We might need to wrap this up. I have class in fifteen minutes and I would definitely skip it, except that the prof strongly hinted that there would be a quiz this week. Maybe we could study together later or something."

Nicole shrugs as she speaks, and Waverly is genuinely jealous for a second that she seems so nonchalant about being friends. If only Waverly could muster that kind of control, she might not make such an idiot of herself on such a regular basis.

"Okay! I'll message you. Because I've decided we're actual friends now, so I'll see you later."

The red headed woman lets out a laugh, "Okay Waverly. Whatever you say. Swing me a text when you're free." Waverly nods, and steps in to wrap Nicole in a hug. Friends hug. She's cementing their friendship in hugs. She feels Nicole stiffen but then tentatively put her arms around Waverly's back. Waverly hangs on for what she thinks is probably a bit too long, but she decides she doesn't care. She sends Nicole off with luck, and walks off smiling.

* * *

 

Twenty minutes later, she's still playing their conversation over in her head so she pulls her phone out.

_WE: hey, this is my number by the way_

She lays her phone beside her and turns back to her books. No need to sit around and wait, she knows Nicole's in a test.

_N: i think this professor told us there'd be a quiz so we'd show up to what is the worlds most pointless class. three people are asleep._

Waverly laughs at the screen and taps out a reply,

_WE: oh god. can you make a break for it?_

_N: she's blocking the door. also I'm pretty sure my ex is in the front row. is this what hell looks like_

_WE: yes. about your ex, bad breakup? or can you recruit him into your escape team? also I'm realizing i don't know your last name._

_N: oh right, it's haught. pronounced like hot bc i'm so spicy & colorful. _

_NH: & nope, awkward break up. plus I don't know if she has any skills that would be useful in an escape_

Waverly reads the message twice. And the word 'she' six times. Nicole likes girls?

_WE: good call. a poor recruit will just hold the team back._

Nicole likes girls?


	3. Chapter 3

The two girls message on and off for the next few days. Waverly never mentions that Nicole has a female ex, she figures that Nicole'll bring it up if she wants to talk about it. Plus she's still not totally sure of her place. They're friends, sure, but really they've only known each other a few days. So she's not sure if it's something Nicole is comfortable talking about or not. She just doesn't bring it up. Something in her doesn't want to bring it up either. She's not sure why and she honestly hopes it's not some latent prejudice suddenly rearing its head, but the thought of Nicole having an ex just doesn't feel quite right. So she doesn't mind that Nicole doesn't clarify anything further.

She's sitting cross legged on her bed that night when her roommate, Alice, walks in to their room.

"Hey! Haven't seen you in a while, how've you been?" Waverly asks, as they tend to run opposite schedules.

"Girl I am getting you out of this damn room. The point of college is not to learn. The point of college is to _experience._ There's a party tonight and I will literally drag you there if you try to complain. _"_

Waverly opens her mouth to argue, but realizes that really, she could use a bit of experience.  Purgatory never offered a whole lot by way of life experience. She's been drunk a handful of times, but those times consisted mainly of stolen wine coolers drunk in her bedroom with some female friends. Parties tend to get a lot less exciting when the only people invited are the same twenty people you’ve known your entire life.

Alice forces Waverly into a skin tight black dress and colorful heels, and makes her toss her hair upside down a handful of times ('to give it body' the girl says). Looking in the mirror, Waverly has to admit that Alice has made her look pretty decent, at least. Alice pulls a bottle of tequila out from under her bed and grins over at her innocent roommate.

"Hey, whoa no. I am not planning to become a statistic tonight. Put that away." Alice has already poured a pair of shots and is pushing one into Waverly's hand by the time she finishes her sentence. It becomes clear fairly quickly that Alice is not the kind of person who will take no for an answer and soon they've thrown back two shots apiece.

"Three's the lucky number, and then we can leave." Waverly braces herself, tosses the shot back, and grimaces. Who knew that tequila was so disgusting?

* * *

 

By the time they're making their way into the house (which is already packed), Waverly's feeling slightly wobbly on her feet. While her words aren't slurring, they're definitely not clear, and she finds herself being overly friendly and chatty to people she's never met. You know, the usual college girl wasted act. Alice quickly hands Waverly a drink and leaves her to her own devices. She spends an hour or so roaming the different rooms, chatting to people she's seen in classes and people she's never seen before in her life, and steadily downing drinks.

She's engaged in a thrilling conversation about whether corn chips are better than regular chips (her argument is yes, but only when paired with guacamole) when a steady hand snakes low around her waist and she turns the wrong way to try and find its owner.

"Hey beautiful, I saw you from across the room and just couldn't help myself," a low voice says in her ear. She smells beer and sweat and turns to find a muscled guy, holding a cup and leaning towards her.

"Hey there. How's your night? Also who are you?" The alcohol pumping through her veins urges her into the conversation. She presses her hand onto the guys chest, mainly to steady herself.

"You can call me Champ. And my night just got a whole lot better."

She cringes at the line, and leans back slightly. She finds a wall and rests her back against it, feeling grateful for the steady support. Champ leans in further, keeping his arm around her waist. Her drunk fingertips toy with the hem of his shirt, enthralled by the soft fabric. He seems to take this as encouragement, because he closes the distance between them and presses his lips to hers.

She doesn't particularly mind, she figures it's an experience and it's very 'college', drunkenly hooking up with a guy at a party. Plus she didn't bring a jumper and Champ is warm. His tongue presses urgently and hard into her mouth and she tastes cheap beer and cigarette smoke. She's vaguely aware of his hands running over her back. He breaks from her mouth, and starts to peel wet kisses down her neck.

She zones out from the affection and her eyes scan the room. A couple of people notice her bored look and wave, laughing. She sees Alice talking intently to a friend outside, and thinks that she should go introduce herself. It'd be nice to be friends with her roommate.

She's just about to try a bit harder to pay attention to Champ when her eyes meet brown eyes staring at her from across the room. Nicole. 'Shit she looks good,' Waverly thinks. She's interrupted by Champ pressing his tongue back into her mouth and her immediate thought is, 'Not in front of Nicole!'

She kisses him back this time, increasingly interested as she imagines running her hands through soft red hair. She imagines the taste of Nicole's mouth. She thinks of running her hands down the curve of Nicole's body and feeling the pressure of Nicole against her. Champ's hard brick body is a poor substitute. Her chest starts to pound, and she breaks away from the boy, short of breath. Telling him she needs to find a bathroom, she pushes through the mess of drunken teenagers to find Nicole, constantly scanning for red hair amongst the crowd. She's almost thinking she's hallucinated the girl's existence when she pushes the front door open and steps out. The cold air clears her head slightly and she surveys the groups of people standing around. Her eyes catch on long red hair, Nicole leaning against a tree a few meters away, staring at the ground between her feet. Her heart clenches and she wanders over to the girl, fingers brushing Nicole's arm gently to alert her to Waverly’s presence

"Detached yourself?" Nicole asks. Waverly's surprised by the tone of the question, hard and unimpressed.

"Yeah I'm... sorry."

Nicole shakes her head, "Waverly, you don't... I just..." She sighs, running a hand through her hair.

The alcohol in Waverly’s system doesn’t make it any easier for her to understand what’s happening before her.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Has someone done something to you? Where are they?” She stumbles over the questions as anger and alcohol compete within her. She presses a hand to Nicole’s hip as protective instinct takes over.

Nicole’s voice breaks and her face seems to split as she replies in a whisper, “I’m just lost.”

“Lost? I have Maps on my phone! That’s easy I can help you, where are you going?” the drunk girl replies, missing the emotion spilling from Nicole. The taller girl laughs, choking back the feeling that had brushed so close to the surface.

“Honestly Waves, wherever you’re heading, I’ll come too.”

Waverly’s breath catches and she drunkenly murmurs, “You make me feel something else.” Nicole has to press a hand against the tree to steady herself, although she hasn’t had a single drink. Waverly doesn’t seem to notice that she’s said anything out loud. Nicole’s eyes scan the drunk girl, who is trying to tip her drink as close to the rim of her cup as possible without spilling it (she’s really just tipping her drink on the floor bit by bit). Waverly spills liquid on her shoe and jolts, as though shocked out of her drunken trance. She glances over at Nicole, catching the look on her face. She smiles softly in return, holding her eye. Nicole steps forward slightly, keeping her eyes locked to Waverly’s.

A deep voice booms loud across the grass, “You didn't come back!" Waverly blinks quickly and steps back. Champ sweeps Waverly up, not glancing at Nicole (who slowly lets out the breath she was holding and glares at Champ's back), peppering Waverly's neck with kisses. Waverly lets out a sterile laugh. "I guess I got lost," she replies, not moving her eyes from Nicole's face. Brown eyes snap back to meet Waverly's, who offers a bashful smile. Champ looks up, following Waverly's gaze to the other girl.

"Oh sorry, I didn't even see you. I'm Champ, and you're...?"

"Leaving. Don't do anything you'll regret Waverly," Nicole bites out, laying as much sting into the words as she can.

"Waverly. How did I not even know your name?" the boy remarks.

Waverly starts to tell him he didn't ask, but Champ doesn't wait for an answer and quickly sticks his tongue down Waverly's throat.

The girl kisses him back, trying to distract herself from the way her stomach sinks as her eyes follow Nicole's retreating back, and from the way her chest feels like it's collapsing into itself. She kisses him back and tries not to think of how she thought, just for a single second, that she might end this night kissing Nicole.

This isn't the plan Waverly had. This isn't the way that college was supposed to go. She doesn't think there's anything wrong with 'the gays' as the older people in Purgatory used to call them. But there was a plan, a very specific plan, set in place by Waverly at 10 years old (literally written down and taped to her bedroom wall). And that plan did not involve Nicole, it didn't involve these full body, inescapable feelings, this loss of control. The plan was always, is still: college, meet a boy who is kind and who loves Waverly with a kind of reverence and is preferably studying something impressive; high powered and rewarding career though still leaving enough time to maintain a perfect relationship with said boy and travel the world; marriage, traditional with a three tier cake and the boy will cry at the altar when Waverly walks down the aisle; and then three babies and a golden retriever. Easy and perfect, nothing unusual about it, nothing anyone can pass judgement on. Thanks to, well, her entire family, Waverly's had enough judgement and enough 'unusual' to last an entire lifetime and she isn't about to voluntarily hand the assholes of the world another reason to beat her down. Even if Nicole is like nothing she's ever experienced, and even if Nicole seems to be stuck in her mind. Even though everything in her wants to say fuck the plan, and go follow Nicole.

Even then. She squeezes her eyes shut and presses herself to Champ, trying to push thoughts of red hair and brown eyes and soft lips out of her head.


	4. Chapter 4

Waverly wakes up the next morning, her head throbbing, Champ snoring beside her, regret sinking deep into her bones. She runs her mind over her memories of the night before, and remembers her lips locked to Champ's for most of the night. She remembers pushing herself to the boy desperately, wanting so much to want him. She remembers asking him to have sex with her, remembers, with an overwhelming rush of relief and more affection for the boy than she's felt so far, his refusal to touch her while she was drunk. She thinks of Nicole, recalls talking to her by a tree, the exhilaration that ripped through her as Nicole stepped towards her, and then remembers watching her walk away. Bile rises in her throat and she races to the bathroom to heave tequila and beer into the toilet bowl. She sits with her back against the cool bathroom wall, face wet with tears, head throbbing, but most painfully, heart aching.   
"Waverly?" A deep voice, the wrong voice, calls out, and she thinks of the way Nicole calls her Waves.   
She coughs and swipes at her eyes, "Yep give me one second." Taking a second to check the mirror, and make sure it's not overly obvious she's been crying, she makes her way back to Champ's room, to find him standing awkwardly in the middle of it.   
"Hey, are you, uh feeling okay?" He asks, clearly nervous.   
"Mmm," she hums. "Just very hungover."   
Champ grins softly, "I know a place with great bacon burgers, if you don't have anywhere to be."   
She thinks of the excitement that she felt when Nicole asked her to coffee, and compares it to now. Really, there's no comparison. Right now all she feels is slightly awkward and hungry. She agrees though, mostly because of the bacon.   
Champ offers her the smallest tshirt he owns and she pulls it on over her dress. He carries her heels for her, and she ignores the snickers of people around them as she does her walk of shame barefoot to the cafe. She chokes back a humorless laugh when she sees it's the same place she came to with Nicole.   
They get a table in the back corner, and order quickly. Waverly thinks it's pretty clear that Champ is treating this as a date, acting all respectful and chivalrous. She tries to find it cute or even just flattering, but all she feels is regret and emptiness.   
Their food arrives and Waverly has to admit Champ was right, they are damn good burgers. They make mostly small talk, Waverly learning about Champ's sports and family and friends, about the girlfriend he left back home, about how he's already been offered a job for after graduation through some friend of his father. She listens most of the time, Champ seeming more than happy to talk about his various achievements. She watches him as he speaks, and thinks about how he would fit her plan so perfectly. All-American boy, wholesome, loves his family and his sports. He's talking about a football game or a video game or something (she's been zoning in and out so she's not 100% sure). She doesn't particularly care either, so she looks around the room, surveying the various couples and groups of friends scattered around. Most of them look hungover and a little worse for wear, it being Sunday morning on a college campus. She thinks Champ might have asked her a question, and she forces herself to put some attention into the conversation. Really, this boy isn't too bad. He's kind and funny in a goofy way and respects her. So she could do a lot worse. Of course, at the back of her mind as always is Nicole, as a reminder that she could do a lot better.   
Champ walks her back to her dorm after their breakfast. He holds her hand on the way and it makes Waverly feel like she's suffocating. At the door to her building, he kisses her.  
She spends the day napping and checking her phone for any kind of contact from Nicole. At this point, she'd be happy with anything. By 3pm she can't take the waiting anymore and taps out a message.   
WE: _hey, how are you feeling today?_    
The response comes quickly and she groans at the way her brain skips, thinking that maybe Nicole's been waiting for her message too.   
NH: _hey I didn't drink last night so I'm okay. I bet you're feeling a bit dusty_  
WE: _lucky. Yeah I'm feeling broken haha. What've you been up to?_   
NH: _went to that place I showed you for breakfast this morning, then I've just been catching up on classes today_  
Waverly's stomach drops. Nicole was there this morning? So she probably saw Waverly and Champ having what probably looked like a morning after sex breakfast, and Waverly was in his tshirt. She hates that she cares that Nicole saw them, hates that she feels like she's ruined things between them when, if she's being honest, there's nothing there to ruin. She knows Nicole has dated a girl in the past, but she doesn't know if that's something Nicole does exclusively or even regularly. It could have been a one off. And Waverly's straight. Or meant to be straight, or she thought she was straight, or something. So it doesn't matter because nothing's going to happen there. So why does she feel like the air has been sucked out of her body?  
Her phone buzzes again.  
NH: _you and Champ looked cozy, you clearly had a good night_  
For some reason this tips all the frustration, confusion and pain that's been simmering in Waverly into action and she types out a message.   
WE: _I don't know about that, got hammered, made a lot of regretful decisions, tried to force Champ to fuck me because I'm trying to work out what I want or really who I want, woke up hungover in a strange bed, spent the day confused which seems to be the fucking norm lately because I have no idea what is happening or what to do about it. So yeah the best night of my life really._   
She hits send angrily. Then reads the message. "Fuck fuck fuck," she whispers under her breath, realizing that she'd potentially just let Nicole know she likes her by yelling at her in a text message. "Reaaaally smooth, Earp," she murmurs.   
It's fifteen agonizing minutes of the three 'typing dots' popping up and disappearing in the message screen before Waverly's phone screen shows, 'Nicole Haught is ringing...'   
She hesitates, not sure how emotionally prepared she is for a phone call with Nicole and not trusting that she won't cry, but she answers anyway.   
"Hey, I was going to write you a message but it was getting too long and I'd rather talk to you anyway so I hope this is okay?" The voice on the end of the line asks.   
"It's okay, and I'm so-" Waverly begins, but is cut off by Nicole's voice.   
"Waverly, you shouldn't apologize for how you feel. I should be apologizing, I got pissed about you and Champ when I have no right to tell you what or who to do." Waverly lets out a laugh as Nicole continues.   
"I jumped to conclusions, with you and also when I saw you and Champ this morning. You've been really clear about what this is and I have no right to get mad."  
A range of feelings mix in Waverly. Elation that perhaps this means that Nicole likes her back, an overwhelming confusion because she still doesn't understand what she feels for Nicole, reluctance to throw away every dream she's had for her life, regret, so much regret. It's a complicated mix, she feels her heart pound with the thought that her feelings might be requited, while her stomach drops because she doesn't know what she wants from those feelings. Well, that's not quite true. She knows what she wants.   
She wants Nicole, in every sense of the word. She wants to run her fingertips over every inch of porcelain skin, to map every freckle, every curve. She wants to press her lips to Nicole's neck, her knuckles, the soft inside of her thigh. She wants to know Nicole sleepy, find out if she's an early riser, how she likes her coffee, what she thinks of her family, what she wants from life. She wants every detail of the girl, but she doesn't know how to reconcile that with the part of her that wants the life she's always wanted. She doesn't know how to reconcile wanting Nicole with the version of herself she wants to be.   
"Waverly?"   
She realizes she hasn't said anything.   
"I- uh, I don't know what I want. That's the only answer I have, I don't know. I'm trying to know but right now, I have no answer."   
She hears Nicole sigh gently at the other end of the line, "That's okay Waves, it's okay not to know. Can we... Will you still be my friend?"   
"Yes! Please." Waverly almost trips over the words in her haste to answer, because the one thing she thinks would hurt worse than not knowing how to want Nicole is not having Nicole around.   
"Well that's good then," Nicole lets out a soft laugh. They arrange to meet up before their shared class and hang up.   
Waverly sets her phone down, lies back on her bed, staring at the ceiling, and promptly bursts into tears. Because she still has no fucking clue what any of this means.


	5. Chapter 5

It takes Waverly far longer to get ready before the class she shares with Nicole than she will ever admit. She ends up changing three times before looking herself in the mirror, saying sternly, "You are just friends with her. It doesn't matter what you wear."   
That doesn't save her from being a few minutes late to their agreed meeting spot, and she races there to find Nicole tapping at her phone. She looks up with the softest and fondest grin on her face when Waverly arrives, that Waverly almost melts where she stands.   
"Hey, you look," Nicole's voice breaks slightly and she coughs. "You look very nice today."   
"You look really Haught," Waverly snickers, "D'you get it?"   
Nicole replies with a straight face (which only makes Waverly laugh more), "Yes. That is really good and really funny and I've never heard it before in my entire life."   
They both laugh, and Waverly thinks about how good it feels just to _be_ , with Nicole. Beyond the overwhelming attraction to the girl, and the total confusion about feelings, and the fact that all of Waverly's thoughts are now filled with red hair and long pale limbs and brown eyes, she does just really like Nicole. Which, she realizes, makes everything harder.   
The two girls find a bench out in the sun and they talk and joke, killing the half hour before their class. Nicole tells Waverly about her family, how it's been just her and her mom for as long as she can remember. Waverly talks about Wynonna, about how sometimes she wishes she could have a sister again. It's easy, sharing without judgement, hearing each other's stories, until Nicole brings up Champ.   
"How are things with you and Champ?" She asks.   
"Oh! Uhm... We, I mean he uh," Waverly stumbles over her words, steadfastly avoiding Nicole's eye.   
"Hey, we're friends, friends talk about this stuff. Are you two a 'thing' now?"   
"Hah I've just noticed I don't actually know? We’ve only texted a bit since uh... The other day." She's hesitant to mention their conversation, where she _thinks_ they both dropped hints about liking each other. She's not totally sure, every time she thinks about it she finds a hundred different reasons to believe that Nicole doesn't like her in any significant way.   
"Well maybe you should ask him, if you want to be a thing," Nicole replies, doing a far better job at being friends than Waverly feels she's doing herself.   
"Mm maybe, I'm not really into him so I don't know."   
Nicole tries (and fails) to conceal the grin that spreads on her face, and Waverly finds herself smiling gently back. In the back of her mind, a voice asks her what she's doing, but she listens to the warmth in her chest instead.  
"Well that's, uh, not good," Nicole replies, with the brightness in her eyes betraying her words.   
"Yeah, I can tell you're all torn up. I can give you his number if you like?" Waverly jokingly offers.   
"That would be great if I wasn't so firmly gay," Nicole responds, and Waverly has to fight hard to control her reaction. So there's her answer, Nicole definitely likes girls and just girls. The voice in her head whispers that Nicole might like her, that it wouldn't be a stretch because Waverly's a girl, that Nicole might not be so freaked out if Waverly were to want her.   
She pushes it all away and nods, "Oh, right. Well then how about you? Any girls you're interested in?"   
"Oh uh shit, we're late for class," Nicole says, checking her watch. They both hurriedly gather their bags and race to class. They're not late, they end up getting there a few minutes early and they pick seats in the back corner.  
The professor drones on for what seems like hours and Waverly takes notes as best she can. She's preoccupied though, by the way she almost grazes Nicole's leg when she crosses her own, the way Nicole brushes her hair off her shoulder, the way she furrows her eyebrows when she's confused, the way she taps her foot impatiently when the professor says something she doesn't agree with, as though she's urging him on to the next point. Waverly doesn't realize she's been watching Nicole probably too much, until Nicole pushes the corner of her book towards the brunette. There's a note scrawled there, and Waverly smiles as she leans over to look, remembering their first few interactions and how much of an incoherent mess she was.   
_You okay there Earp?_  
The blush that blooms on Waverly's face is so pronounced it radiates from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. She nods, the movement causing Nicole to look up and notice that Waverly has turned a shade of red darker than Nicole's hair. She laughs and pats Waverly's hand reassuringly. "Adorable," she says quietly, and Waverly, somehow, blushes deeper. They both turn back to their notes though Waverly can't help but notice that a smile stays on Nicole's face for the rest of the class.

* * *

 

When Waverly rounds the corner of the hallway to her dorm and the door is open, she stops dead in her tracks. The smile that has been stuck on her face immediately drops and fear shoots through her as she tries to think of logical reasons her door would be open. Alice would either be at class or with one of the boys she's dating (probably the latter, Alice and class aren't well acquainted). She almost calls Nicole for back up, but then thinks that if it turns out she just left the door open this morning in her rush to get to see the other girl, it'll compound the embarrassment that she felt earlier. She grabs a sharp pencil from her bag and, holding it in her fist, she kicks the door open and jumps into the room.   
"AH! What the f-," she trails off as sees the intruder sitting cross legged on her bed, eating her chips.   
"You know I like the original flavour, why would you do this to me?"   
Waverly's pencil drops to the floor.   
"It's inconsiderate, is what it is."  
"Wynonna? Who-what are y- how did you get in here?"   
"Bribed the security guy with sexual favors. He was not interested, so I climbed through a window."   
"Where have you been Wynonna?" Waverly asks.   
"Aw you know, around the place. Spain mostly, Iceland for a bit but, I don't know if you know, it's really cold there. Froze my balls off."  
Waverly doesn't laugh, "Where have you been?"  
The woman puts the stolen chips down on the bed and stares down at her hands. Waverly sees her take a gulp of air before she speaks.   
"I couldn't do it Waverly. I couldn't stay in that place, with the stares and the whispers."  
"What about me? I was just a kid!"  
"I had to leave Wave, I did it for your sake more than anything else. If you knew, you would have wanted me to go as well. If I'd stayed, I would have hurt you more than I ever did by leaving."   
"I am so, so sick of people making decisions for me. You didn't let me choose Wynonna, you left me 'for me' but it's my life and you didn't let me decide." Tears spill from Waverly's eyes and roll down her cheeks. Her voice breaks and she says in a tearful whisper, "I was alone. I lost my whole family in one go."  
"I tried! I tried so hard but I just kept breaking and I didn't want to break you too."   
"You did. You leaving, that broke me the most."  
"I'm sorry, baby girl, I'm so sorry." Wynonna steps up from the bed, crying herself now, and moves toward Waverly. Waverly takes a few steps back, to the door.   
Wiping at her eyes and clearing her throat, she says, "Um you can stay here, I'll, uh I'm gonna go. I'll tell my roommate you're here. I just, just need to think a little bit. I love you Wy, I just need to work out how I feel. I'll message you tomorrow."   
Waverly pushes her way out of the door, leaving Wynonna to fall back on the bed.   
"That went about as well as can be expected," she says to the empty room dejectedly.

* * *

 

Waverly taps at the door incessantly, not letting up even when she hears movement inside. She knows she looks like crap, with tears smudged all over her face, hair a mess from anxiously pushing her hands through it. But at this moment she doesn't care. She's upset and this is the only thing she can think of to make herself feel better.   
The door swings open and, catching a glimpse of Nicole's sweet, concerned, beautiful face, Waverly rips out a sob and collapses into the girls arms.   
"Waves? What can I do? What do you need?"   
The sobbing girl sniffles and murmurs into Nicole's chest, "You. I just need you."


	6. Chapter 6

Nicole trembles as Waverly's hands grip the bottom of her t-shirt, knuckles just barely grazing the skin of her stomach as the crying girl bunches the fabric in her fists. She scolds herself, trying to remember that Waverly is upset, that this isn't the time, and anyway, Waverly hasn't given her any indication that she's ready for anything here. She gulps down the desire that arises in her, adding it to the mess of ignored feelings that's steadily growing in the pit of her stomach. Her neighbor flashes her a concerned look and she waves them away, mouthing 'Boys' with a point to the girl sobbing into her chest, by way of explanation. Gently turning Waverly, she moves them into her room and kicks at her roommate's bed, where said roommate is reclining.   
"Hey, can you beat it? I'll buy you pizza tomorrow night as a thank you?" She grins hopefully at the girl and sees Waverly turn to also flash her a teary smile.   
"You're lucky you're not generally a shit roommate, Haught. I'll go crash at Brad's. I hope you’re okay stranger.”   
Nicole yells a thank you at her retreating back, and turns her attention back to Waverly.   
"We need tissues and alcohol, I think." Her knees weaken at the way Waverly sniffles and nods slightly. She turns around to hide how her cheeks turn red, and grabs a bottle of vodka from a nearby drawer. She unscrews the lid and hands it to Waverly with a box of tissues.   
"Do you want to talk? Or we could just watch a movie or something?"   
"D'you mind if we just sit for a bit?" Waverly takes a small swig from the bottle and winces, passing it over to Nicole. The red head gulps some back and recaps the bottle, before tossing it on her bed.   
"Of course we can sit."   
They sit side by side on Nicole's bed, Waverly staring down at her hands and Nicole doing her best not to wrap the girl in her arms. It's a long time before either of them speak.   
"My sister came back. And it's, I don't know, I'm feeling a lot of things," Waverly whispers to her hands. There's pain in her voice. Nicole reaches over and grabs her hand, and Waverly looks up. She looks at Nicole with fresh tears welling in her eyes, and Nicole feels Waverly's grip on her fingers tighten.   
"Who knew that the way I feel about you would be the less confusing thing I feel today?" Waverly jokes sadly. Nicole's eyes widen, and her heart beats faster. She glances at their joined hands and brushes her thumb along Waverly's knuckles, trying to memorize the way the girl's small hand feels in hers. She runs her eyes over Waverly's face and tries to commit that to memory as well. The vulnerability, the sadness, the hope, all laid out between blue eyes and tanned skin. Nicole takes a breath, and meets Waverly’s eye.   
“I don’t know how to help,” she says honestly.   
Nicole watches Waverly lean forward, and she holds her breath. Soft lips meet hers, as Waverly kisses her gently. She tastes vanilla Chapstick and salt and vodka. 'Waverly Earp is kissing me. Waverly. Earp,' her mind plays on a loop. She brings her hand to Waverly's cheek and feels tears under her fingertips. She pulls away from the lips, the most amazing lips she's seen or tasted, and whispers, "You don't want to do this. You're upset."   
Waverly squeezes her eyes shut tight and Nicole watches a tear roll from the corner of one of them.   
"Please. Please, Nicole?" Waverly begs, and Nicole feels herself weaken. She thinks about how much she wants this, wants to push Waverly back on this bed and taste every part of her, but she imagines tomorrow, waking up to Waverly's regrets and excuses and how much that will hurt. She imagines how Waverly will explain that she doesn't want her, that she made a mistake and would like to forget that this kiss ever took place, and how that will break her heart because Nicole would like to remember this for the rest of her life.   
And then Waverly whispers another please, and she throws aside all her thoughts and presses her lips to Waverly's, because the girl is hurt and upset and Nicole is happy to sacrifice her own wellbeing, happy to take the hit.   
Waverly kisses her back hard this time, all desire and need, pushing her tongue between Nicole's lips and into her mouth. A moan slips from their mouths, though neither of them is sure who it came from. Waverly's hands push up into red hair, weaving her fingers through the bright strands. She tugs on the hair in her hand and Nicole's head falls backwards slightly, exposing her neck to Waverly's mouth. She lays open mouthed kisses down Nicole's throat, sucking at her collar bone hard enough to leave a mark. Nicole grins, meets Waverly's eye again and rocks her hips forward to Waverly's. She sees Waverly's eyes widen, so she presses her thigh between the girl's legs and smiles at the gasp that breaks through her mouth. Nicole slips her hand under Waverly's shirt, ghosting her fingers over the tight skin and warm flesh. She tries not to show how her hand shakes.   
She thinks about tomorrow, tries to remind herself this isn't permanent, isn't a beginning, that this is about feeling and chasing away sadness and not about love. She pushes the word out of her mind, because there is no ending to this that is love. She thinks about the girl who's writhing below her and who she thinks she might have somehow been imagining since she was 12 and found out that girls could like girls. She thinks about what their future might be, whether they'll implode spectacularly, how they could possibly carve out a friendship when Nicole feels so much that Waverly can't.   
And then Waverly pushes her hand into Nicole's underwear, and Nicole quits thinking.

* * *

 

Nicole wakes up the next morning to Waverly. Waverly sprawled naked across her, Waverly's hair in her mouth, Waverly making soft breathy noises as she sleeps. More of Waverly than she's ever known. And it makes her stomach drop because it's more than she could ever dream of, but she knows the end is close. Once the girl lying across her wakes up, this is done, she knows. She knows she should eke it out, try to lay still so she doesn't wake Waverly, try to extend this feeling as long as she can, but it feels like a lie. She knows, without asking, why Waverly did this and she knows it wasn't for the reasons she wants it to be. She knows Waverly hasn't made any decision here.   
So she slowly peels the naked girl from her chest, covering her carefully with a blanket and heads to the shower.   
She lets the warm water beat down on her until it runs cold, trying to somehow grow strong and brave and indifferent to the girl no doubt still lying in her bed. She fails miserably, of course, instead replaying moments from the night before over in her head. It's hard to move on from someone when images of them grinning up at you from between your thighs and memories of their moans keep flashing into your head, as Nicole learns.   
She tries to make herself okay with having had a night with Waverly, pretends it's better than having had nothing, but she feels her heart tearing in two and doesn't believe herself. She leans her forehead against the shower wall and watches the water swirl down the drain and tries her absolute hardest to let her feelings for Waverly swirl away with it.   
When none of it works, she sighs and shuts off the water. Still upset, still confused, still in love with the girl asleep a couple of rooms over. Or not asleep, she learns as she pushes the door to her room open and is greeted by the image of Waverly dressed and sitting cross legged on her bed.   
"Hey," she says softly.   
"Hey, sorry I went to shower," Nicole holds up her towel as evidence, and then wonders why she thinks she should need evidence for that. Maybe because she did less showering and more just standing in water thinking about Waverly. Probably that.   
"Oh right. So, um. About last night," Waverly pauses and Nicole's first thought is to brace herself for the rejection that's bound to come next. So she gets in first.   
"It's okay, you don't have to do this, the whole awkward diplomatic speech. You can just leave and we can pretend it didn't happen. It didn't mean anything, obviously. Let's say you were drunk and leave it," Nicole spits out, more bitterness in her voice than she intended. There's a pause and she watches Waverly think, can practically see the gears turn in her head. Nicole's heart sinks as Waverly slowly nods, ripping up the final shred of hope Nicole wouldn't admit she still held.   
"O-okay," Waverly stutters out.   
Nicole follows her to the door, willing herself to stay strong for just a few more minutes. Waverly turns, at the last minute, and hesitates before pressing a kiss to Nicole's cheek. Waverly opens her mouth, looking like she might say something, but at the last minute turns back around and walks away.

* * *

 

Nicole lays back on her bed, squeezing her eyes shut when she notices that her pillow smells like the girl who has just left. She sees the bottle of vodka by her bed, sitting forgotten from the night before, and looks quickly away. She pulls the covers up over her head and wonders why she isn't crying. She thinks maybe it's because she hasn't lost anything. She had been expecting this, had been bracing for the rejection. She knew Waverly wouldn't want her. It hurt, her chest aches, but she isnt surprised. She's done this before, this loving a straight girl, and knows it will pass. Achingly, slowly, but it will pass. Her phone buzzes and she groans, figuring it'll be a message from her roommate asking if it's safe to return. Her breath stops when she sees the screen.

_WE_ : it meant something.


End file.
